


Home Is Where My Heart Is (And That's You, Darling)

by fiveboysxtheworld



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bandana Harry, Football, Football Player Louis, Footballer Louis, Furnisher Harry, M/M, Mover Harry, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveboysxtheworld/pseuds/fiveboysxtheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Louis opens the door to his new house for the first time, he doesn't expect to open the one to his heart as well.</p><p>Or the one where Louis plays football for Man U and Harry lifts heavy things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where My Heart Is (And That's You, Darling)

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Everything in this story is a work of fiction. I claim no association to the boys and their relationships.
> 
> This work is currently incomplete. My updates may be sporadic. I don't know how long it will be (in my head I wanted to write a short one-shot, but I feel like this will become more like a short novel. I blame my imagination.) I sincerely apologize for any grammatical errors or fluffiness :) Hope you like it!

It was exactly three in the afternoon on a misty November day and Louis was driving. His foot lightly rested on the gas, and he tilted his head slightly to look out the window to his left at the scenery passing by.

Twisted, rain-soaked trees lined the sides of the street, their burnt orange leaves rotting at their roots. The grass was still a brilliant shade of bright green for the lateness of the month, and was saturated with water. Mist hovered low at eye-level. 

He noticed the small shops squeezed in between clumps of the bare trees and cracked open his window to get a better look. A cool, pre-winter breeze carried the smell of deep fried fish into the car and Louis’s stomach grumbled pointedly. He pressed down on the pedal, and his sleek black sports car shot forward, leaving the appealing scent behind. Louis didn’t need a load of garbage food messing up his strict nutritional diet. He would eat when he got there.

Louis had already called his manager Liam immediately upon landing to double check that everything was in order for his arrival at his new house.

“Hey Li,” Louis had exhaled into his phone.

Liam’s voice was bright and clear when he had responded, “Louis, mate! How was your flight?”

“Not too bad. I slept for most of it, so I don’t remember that much honestly.”

Liam had laughed lightly.

“I was just checking that the house was ready and everything? Just so, y’know, I won’t be sleeping on the streets like a bum tonight.”

Liam laughed again. “Not to worry, my dear Louis, everything is in perfect order for the Queen’s arrival; even a fridge stuffed with that organic rubbish you claim to like.”

“Hey!” he had exclaimed, “it’s not that bad really – better than any of that take-away you and Zayn have every Friday night.”

“Oh shut-up, you used to love that Chinese food! You’re the one that even made me pull over that one night and pick up some for your drunk ass because you ‘were so hungry’ and we discovered that place!”

“Nonsense, nonsense. You tell nothing but lies Liam. I’m on to more important things now. Like kicking a ball around a field.”

Liam had snorted disbelievingly. “Yeah, I don’t exactly count that as important.”

“Oh so, managing someone that kicks a ball around a field is?”

“Always the smart-mouth Louis. Hey, I gotta call coming in from Zayn, I’ll talk to you later, okay? Tell me what you think of the house.”

“Alright,” Louis had grinned mischievously, “have fun talking with your boyfriend,” he teased, drawing out the ‘o’.

“I’m hanging up on you arsehole,” Liam had said, and there was an audible click as the call ended.

Louis glanced down at his GPS. His approximate time of arrival was in ten minutes. Flicking on the radio and turning the station to a low hum, he kept driving straight on the road, which was slick with fresh rainwater.

&&&

When Louis had told Liam that he wanted a house reclusive and away from any other human civilization, he had definitely listened.

Louis had spent the last five minutes alone going up the long-winded dirt road, which he assumed was supposed to be his driveway. Thick, hunter green pine trees stood tall on either side of road, blocking out anyone’s view of him, although Louis already had tinted windows.

As he steered his car gently around another curve, hands turning slightly, it came into view.

Louis wasn’t exactly big on interior design, but he knew a nice house when he saw one.

It was made out of dark blue wood panels and had white framing around the windows. A brown-shingled roof covered the top, and a wrap-around porch covered the bottom. There were a few select maple trees planted around the perimeter with vibrant red leaves that popped against the colour of the house. It was a decent size, much larger than he needed for one person and the occasional two guests, but he already felt at ease. 

He pressed on the brake, parking his car haphazardly in the middle of the circular drive wrapping around a garden in front of the house. No one was visiting him until Liam came on Friday, and that was four days away, so Louis didn’t particularly care where his car was placed.

He climbed out of his warm car and into the cold air, wrapping his leather jacket around his shoulders. A light dusting of wet snow fell from the clouds and a large flake landed on Louis’s nose. It melted upon contact, but he still wiped away the water left as he clicked on the button to open his trunk.

He gathered up his only suitcase and discarded football from the back and walked towards the front door. Climbing up the wooden steps, Louis pulled out the keys for the house from his front pocket and shoved a random one into the slot. Luckily enough for him, it was the right one, and the door opened with a soft click.

Inside, it smelt new, like fresh cut-wood and paint.

Louis rolled his suitcase across the glossy pine floors, heading past a large, open living space to his left and the kitchen to his right, and down a hall straight ahead. His hand turned the knob of the first door open, and revealed a furnished bedroom with white walls and the same hardwood. He tried the second one, and it was nearly identical to the first, except it had light blue walls. Up ahead to his left was a four-piece bathroom with a glass shower that Louis liked. Liam had said that the master suite would be at the very end of the hall, so he kept walking, opening up more doors to discover a linen closet, laundry room, and a slightly smaller third guest room with pale grey paint covering the walls.

Finally he reached a set of double white doors. He opened them, interested to see what it looked like. 

There was a massive empty space. 

Empty?

Louis’s brow furrowed. Liam had said that everything would be ready for him, but apparently, that wasn’t the case. He had actually kind of grown secretly excited to see his new room. It only took a couple years of travelling around the world, and living from one hotel room to another to get sick of not having one he could call his own. And so, to see that nothing was in the vast space was a little disappointing.

Louis released his suitcase and shoved his hand into his front pocket to grab his phone. He had just typed in the passcode and was nearly about to hit the dial button on Liam’s contact to phone him when he heard a clattering noise echoing down the hall.

Curious, he slid his phone back into the waistband of his sweats and headed back down the corridor, towards the living and kitchen area.

He was met with the sight of a tall boy, nearly around the same age as himself, carrying a large wooden board. Louis halted all movement, holding his breath in anticipation.

The unknown boy had unruly brown curls tied back with an army green-bandana, in an obvious attempt to control the mess that was his hair, and wore a simple fitted black tee that outlined his shoulders and biceps, speckled with tattoos. Matching jeans that appeared to be painted on his legs were enclosed around his trim waist with a leather belt. Louis looked him up and down approvingly. Mystery break-in boy was hot.

As the boy bent down to heave the back end of the wood, his jeans slid down to reveal bright pink underwear. Louis snorted, covering his mouth with his hand as it curled into a smile. 

How cute, he thought.

The boy shot up at the noise and whirled around in surprise. His green eyes widened with trepidation when he saw Louis, his mouth falling open slightly. 

“Fuck!”

“Me? Yes, please,” Louis said, immediately taken aback by his words. 

He slapped a palm over his mouth. That wasn’t supposed to be thought aloud.

The boy did a double take, absorbing in Louis’s short frame, messy fringe and old sweats through piercing jade eyes. Louis squirmed under his gaze, the back of his neck growing hot.

The boy burst out laughing, clutching his chest for support as Louis’s cheeks coloured in mortification.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped in relief, “I should’ve been, I meant to - I didn’t know that you had arrived already. You scared me!”

Louis looked at the boy’s obviously sheepish expression and relaxed.

The mystery boy offered Louis an outstretched hand. “I’m Harry. Harry Styles. Um, I’m one of the furnishers. An order came in a bit later than expected, and I was told you weren’t going to be here until Friday, so I thought I would be alone. Sorry ‘bout that mate; it’s Louis isn’t?”

Louis shook his hand, Harry’s large one swallowing his tiny one. 

“Yeah, I’m Louis,” he said, noticing that their hands were intertwined for several beats too long. Louis pulled away as if sparked with electricity, embarrassed at his behaviour. He tried to push it aside, blaming his jumpiness on jet lag.

He coughed awkwardly, “Liam’s my manager – he’s the one that’s coming for Friday. Someone must’ve gotten the dates mixed up,” he looked down at his toes, raking a hand through his fringe, “um, sorry for any inconvenience.” 

Harry smiled warmly, a dimple popping in his cheek. “No worries Louis, that’s my fault. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta bring this massive thing into the house.” He jabbed a thumb at the wooden frame behind him.

Louis only then noticed the wintry draft creeping into the room from the open front door. He wasn’t cold though. In fact, his skin felt on fire from where Harry had touched it, the warmth crawling up his arm and spreading across the rest of his body.

Harry grunted, heaving the board up and into the house. Louis admired the way his muscles flexed underneath his faintly tanned skin as he grabbed the heavy board. He imagined what they would look like if he were shirtless, propped up above Louis, flushed with pleasure and lips swollen red with kisses. Louis would reach up and tangle his fingers in his thick curls, pulling him down for a chaste peck, before adorning his jawline with dark purple love bites. He would moan and Louis would-

Louis hastily cut his train of thought off, feeling his blood suddenly rush south. He most certainly didn’t want a hard-on in front of Harry. He had already embarrassed himself enough with his previous outburst. Drawing in a deep breath, Louis forced himself to stay calm and think of kittens dying, to remove any thoughts about Harry and his wonderful body that Louis wouldn’t mind going vertical with.

He was suddenly aware of Harry grinning at him, an infuriatingly adorable dimple a huge crater in his cheek. Louis blushed, carding a hand through his hair nervously.

“Hey, d’you want a hand with that?” Louis asked, searching Harry’s face for any sign of emotion.

Now it was Harry’s turn to blush. He stared down at his hands.

“Uh, sure if you don’t mind,” he nodded, “My partner Niall ditched me to take his girlfriend out to the movies. It’ll be the same thing next week too. I swear he goes through a girl every day. He’s a little blond Irish heartbreaker – gets all the girls,” Harry paused, and Louis swore a tiny bit of jealously flickered across his face before he continued, “ So, yeah, that’d be great – thanks.”

“Glad to help,” Louis smiled, positioning himself at the back of the frame, which looked like the headboard of a bed, ready to lift up.

Harry grinned back, “on three: one, two, three!”

Both of them forced it upwards, muscles straining. Louis caught the movement of Harry’s shoulders beneath the tight black fabric of his t-shirt, and admired the way they pulled taught, shoulder blades pressed together to accommodate the mass. Louis gulped silently, suddenly feeling hot again.

But Louis, he was jealous of Niall when he talked about him and all the girls. He couldn’t possibly like you in that way – ever. He’s definitely straight. The tinny voice echoed in his head, annoyingly truthful. 

Louis sighed quietly to himself. 

They walked forward, careful not to graze the board against the freshly painted walls.

“Is this part of my bed?” Louis asked, examining the curved shape of the wood.

“Yup,” Harry answered ahead of him, “the headboard. We haven’t put some of the furniture together yet in your room,” he sounded guilty as he continued, “I’m really sorry – the orders were just behind and we thought we had more time.”

They carried on walking down the hall, Louis’s shoes scuffing the hardwood. Upon entering Louis’s room, they gently eased the headboard onto the glossy floor.

Louis reached out as they both straightened up, and placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Do I look like I’m mad?”

Harry looked up and met his eyes, a smile tugging at his thick pink lips. Louis’s eyes flicked down. Lips that Louis imagined would do wondrously dirty things in the bedroom; Louis’s back pressed against the wall, head thrown back in ecstasy, Harry’s fingers digging into his hipbones as his lips worked their magic on him. The heat in Louis’s stomach pooled lower and he quickly averted his gaze from Harry’s lips, dropping his hand from his shoulder.

Louis really needed to get laid. He was acting like a horny teenage boy.

Harry grinned at him, “Nope, my life has been spared. C’mon, we oughta get the rest of the bed so you can sleep tonight, right?”

Louis nodded, breath hitching, not daring to reply when the images of Harry and bed were swirling at dangerous speeds through his mind.

&&&

It went on for a couple more hours; Louis and Harry grabbing pieces of the bed and other heavy wooden furniture from the large white moving truck Harry had come in and into Louis’s bedroom. They chatted and laughed, talking about their friends and family. Louis learned that Harry had grown up in Cheshire, owned a cat named Dusty, had an older sister Gemma that he found infuriating but still loved, and had always wanted to be a singer when he was a child. He told Harry about his sisters, and playing football with his best mate from Doncaster, Stan, when they were younger and that one time he starred in Grease at school.

Harry seemed honestly interested in anything Louis had to say, unlike the media and reporters that normally only bombarded him with personal questions about his relationships and sexuality because it gave them their big fat paycheck at the end of the month; not because they particularly cared. Louis was amazed by Harry’s intentness on listening to him babble on about the time him and Stan had climbed to the top of his roof and shot soda rockets off of it, and then promptly got told off by his mum because they coated her beloved hydrangeas with coca-cola. 

He laughed; as if that was the most hilarious thing he had ever heard. Louis couldn’t help from joining in himself. The boy’s laughter was infectious, like the rest of his personality.

Harry had a way of worming more stories out from Louis, the half-forgotten memories he normally stuffed in the back of his mind in a folder labeled, Childhood, and never paid much attention to. Since his mum and dad had gotten divorced, Louis didn’t like to think about growing up too much, but somehow, reliving the good memories with Harry as the hours passed made him feel slightly less resentful towards his past.

Once everything had been moved in, Harry grabbed a tool box and a belt from the back of the truck and poured over the blueprints, crossed-legged and looking every bit at home sitting on Louis’s floor.

Louis padded up behind him, sitting down as well. He dropped his chin on Harry’s shoulder, not particularly caring what he thought. To his surprise, Harry accepted the contact like they had known one another for years. He shuddered slightly. Louis bit his lip to keep the gigantic smile from spreading itself across his face. He liked having an effect on Harry. Potentially liked it too much, considering the warm feeling that bubbled up inside him.

“What does that mean?” Louis questioned, pointing at a dotted line that crisscrossed multiple times across the paper.

As Harry launched into an explanation of angles and precise measurements, his hands flying over the page, back sending vibrations through Louis as he spoke slowly, Louis let his mind drift, taking in the beauty of the boy.

He had a well-structured jawline - like someone had hand carved it out of marble - and ridiculously long eyelashes, which framed eyes that lit up when he smiled. A few freckles dotted his face in random places and the ghost of stubble traced over his upper lip. Not only that, but he smelt peculiarly wonderful; like vanilla soap, mint, and pine wood rolled into one enticing scent.

It truly was not fair. Louis felt as if he was a kid outside a candy shop, staring longingly through the glass windowpane, allowed to look but not to touch, to taste.

“-So you just calculate the radius of the circular knob and then-“ Harry stopped mid-rant to turn around and look at Louis. “You’re not even paying attention. Have you even heard a single word I’ve said?”

Louis looked at him confusedly. 

“Huh?”

Harry clapped a hand over his face dramatically, mumbling, “Useless I say – useless,” into his palm.

Louis narrowed his eyes, pretending to glare at him.

“Hey, I zone out when I’m hungry and tired. For your information, the layover from LA to England isn’t exactly enjoyable, and I haven’t eaten in a while because I’ve been forced to carry this heavy crap for the past three hours because someone is too weak to do it on their own.”

Harry flicked Louis in the side of the head.

“Fine you idiot. I get it – we’ll take a break I guess,” Harry sighed. “And I am not ‘too weak’ for your information,” he quickly added as an afterthought.

Louis raised an eyebrow defiantly.

“Is that so?”

“Uh huh.”

Harry leaned in close to Louis’s personal space, his jade eyes glowing with challenge. His sweet breath tickled Louis’s face, setting Louis’s nerves on high alert.

“I’m stronger than you think, footie boy,” he whispered, before pulling away abruptly and standing up, leaving Louis dumbstruck.

How did he know?

&&&

After minutes of pep talking and reassuring himself (and maybe a splash or two of cold water from the newly installed sink in his master bath), Louis headed to the kitchen.

Harry was leaning over the gas stove, whirling a colorful mixture of rice, vegetables and shrimp around in a pan. The aroma of the food was delicious, Louis’s stomach protesting loudly at the fact that he was not consuming it at this very moment.

Harry’s head turned at the noise, and his piercing eyes settled on Louis.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed some stuff from the fridge to whip up a quick stir-fry for us. Since you know, you said you were hungry and everything,” he stumbled over his words, cheeks tinged pink from the heat of the stove.

Louis couldn’t help the grin that spread across his lips. 

He wanted to kiss Harry’s cheek – and various other parts of his body – but since he hadn’t known him for more than a couple hours, and Louis was pretty sure he was one hundred percent straight, he opted for a light squeeze of the arm as a compromise.

“Thank-you Harry,” he said, emphasizing every word.

Harry’s cheeks reddened, not from only the heat curling upwards from the stir-fry, but rather from Louis’s thanks. He turned off the gas flame with the click of the knob and used a wooden spoon to split up the meal into two blue bowls Louis hadn’t noticed Harry had laid out on the marble countertop.

They ate like fiends, both hungrier than they would care to admit to the other.

Louis finished his last spoonful of rice and sat back in his chair. Harry was done shortly after, releasing his spoon and letting it clatter into the bowl.

They both looked at each other and began laughing.

“Hungry?” Louis asked sarcastically.

Harry smiled.

“Maybe a tiny bit.”

Harry scooped up both bowls regardless of Louis’s protest and placed them in the sink, reaching underneath in the cabinet for dish soap. A stream of water erupted from the faucet and poured down onto the bowls when Harry flicked the tap upwards.

Louis had to pop the question right now, while the mood was relaxed. He flicked his fringe back into place and asked nonchalantly, “Who told you?”

Harry froze in the middle of scrubbing the inside of a bowl, his shoulders tensing.

Gotcha, Louis thought, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Y’know, that I’m apparently some big-league footie player,” Louis said, rubbing the back of his neck. “’Cause it was really supposed to be kept a secret. Top secret. Confidential information, that.”

Harry didn’t respond, instead returning to cleaning the dishes as if he hadn’t heard anything. He removed any trace of leftover food from the bowls and wiped them dry. Louis noticed the way he took his time, as if delaying. It was only after placing them back in their respective cabinets when he turned around to face Louis, whom was still patiently waiting for an answer, sitting in his chair, arms stretched out behind his head.

Harry’s eyes locked with his for a fleeting second, before Harry hastily averted his eyes to his feet.

“Um, don’t kill Liam for this please, but I got sort-of curious when he said some football player was moving in, ‘cause I’ve been converted into a massive fan of the game from being Niall’s friend for the past year, uh, and he said your name was Louis,” Harry paused, slotting his fingers through each other and then pulling them apart repeatedly, “So then I asked if you were any good-”

Louis snorted incredulously.

“I’m not ‘any good’ my dear Harry – I’m the best of the best.”

Harry rolled his eyes at Louis’s statement, but grinned, full-toothed, and resumed his thought, “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. So yeah, Liam said you played for Man U,” he looked down again, bumbling over his own words. “That’s um, that’s pretty cool. Niall’s going to be jealous that I’ve spent the afternoon with you and haven’t even gotten a signature or a picture or anything. He’s a massive fan.”

Louis beamed at Harry.

“Invite him over sometime, we can have a little scrimmage in the back yard there,” Louis jabbed backwards with his thumb to the French doors leading outside.

Harry looked up, all adorably excited with flushed cheeks and glowing jade eyes and a dimpled smile. “You’d really do that? Niall would be ecstatic!”

Louis nodded. “It’s no problem – I should probably get back into practice eventually. D’you guys wanna come over tomorrow sometime in the afternoon? Wait - scratch that, you’re already going to be here anyways.”

“I am?” Harry asked slowly, puzzled.

“Yes silly boy, we’re not going to be putting together anymore furniture tonight – that can wait until tomorrow. I am sick of looking at blueprints and pretending to understand how to build things,” Louis said, grasping Harry’s wrist with his hand. He gave it a tug. “C’mon, let’s go watch some X-Factor or whatever else is on telly.”

Harry complied, making a definitive noise of agreement.

Louis dragged them over to the plush leather sofa, instructing Harry to sit down while he walked down the hall and gathered up the single blanket from the linen closet he had discovered earlier. When he came back, a thick duvet in hand, Harry had the television set turned on and tuned into X-Factor.

He plopped down on the couch, sinking into the soft material. Louis scooted closer to Harry, tossing one end of the duvet over Harry’s elongated frame before smothering his tiny one.

“Thanks mate,” Harry said, dimple popping.

“No problem,” Louis smiled back.

They stayed that way for a while, an elbow-length away, chatting animatedly about the show and previous seasons until they both began to drift off, sleep reaching out with welcoming arms.

Louis leaned back, trying to find a comfortable position where his neck wasn’t craned at a painful angle. He twisted his head to the left. Nope, that wasn’t right. He tried the opposite side. No such success. He was just about to get up off the couch and go to one of the guest rooms and lay down, when Harry’s voice, thick with sleep, called him back.

“Lou, where ya goin’?”

Louis skin crawled with heat at the shortened nickname. Lou.

“I need a proper cuddle, c’mon,” Harry pleaded, eyes half-lidded and sleepy like a child’s.

Louis took one look at him and nearly melted at the sight of open-armed, needy Harry. He pretended to sigh, as if the whole situation was taxing on him, and crawled back on the couch, positioning himself to lay down foot to foot with Harry, his heart hammering. He wondered if his ribcage would shatter from the way it jackknifed with each beat.

He was being pathetic, really. Louis was just flustered because there happened to be a very attractive male on his couch. Nothing to get all disconcerted over. 

Harry frowned, lips tugging downwards. “No, Lou, c’mere.” He grabbed Louis’s hips with warm hands, and pulled him so his back was flush with Harry’s chest.

Louis held his breath as Harry sighed happily down the back of his neck, throwing a hand over Louis’s waist.

“Much better,” Harry breathed, “’Night Lou.”

“’Night,” Louis squeaked, trying desperately to relax.

He was all of a sudden very, very aware of the way Harry’s body curved around his, chest pressing firmly into his back, hand burning a hole through his hipbone. He was terrified that Harry could feel his heart beating wildly against his chest. This was not what people did when they had just met them hours previous, was it? 

Completely platonic. Platonic. Harry was straight as a board, Louis reminded himself firmly.

As if he could sense Louis’s tension, Harry’s fingertips traced an absentminded pattern on the strip of skin that was exposed where Louis’s t-shirt had ridden up. Louis shivered pleasurably, sinking into his light touch.

He fell asleep that way, Harry’s fingers skimming over his hips and his soft exhales brushing the back of his neck.

&&&

Louis woke up, incredibly warm. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, his mouth dropping open in a yawn. He reached down to remove the covers from his heated body and touched skin. Confused, he stared down at the set of pale arms wrapped around his waist.

Wait a minute.

Louis let his eyelids flutter shut and tried to remember where he was. He had gotten off the plane and driven to his new home. Wet road, lots of trees. His house was large, blue-coloured; very nice. He heard a clattering noise and-

Harry.

Louis’s eyes shot open in fear.

His heart galloped wildly in his chest, his breathing coming out in strangled puffs. This was an extremely awkward situation if Harry were to wake up. He would be disgusted at waking up cuddling someone like Louis, who was quite out of the closet in terms of sexuality, while Harry was unbearably straight. 

Louis had made that mistake before, getting in too deep with his little fantasy. Thinking if they liked the bit of harmless flirting or the quick hand-job he offered, they wouldn’t mind a kiss or two on the mouth. He could almost taste the blood from where the guy had punched him. Louis ran his tongue over the slight chip in his front tooth, remembering the way his mouth had exploded with red liquid everywhere after the boy’s fist had collided with his jaw.

Faggot, Louis remembered what the boy had said. You’re a faggot and no one wants you.

He repeated the words over and over in his head as he detangled himself from Harry’s hold. Straightening his shirt from where it had rucked up in his sleep, he pulled up the thick duvet over Harry so he wouldn’t get cold.

Harry looked kitten-like in his sleep; all innocent and harmless and snuggly. A clump of unruly chocolate curls that had escaped from his headband tumbled over his cheek, and his eyelids were squeezed shut, lips a lovely shade of dark red against the porcelain of his cheek, puffing out as if he was pouting. Soft snores escaped from his mouth. Louis wanted to kiss both his cheeks. He was adorable.

Instead, Louis allowed himself to ghost the pad of his thumb over a cheekbone, his touch feather-light. He hastily snatched his hand back as Harry sighed, turning on his back and grabbing the duvet so it was tucked up underneath his chin. Louis looked away before he did anything else irrationally idiotic and stirred Harry from his sleep.

Louis turned, heading across the open space to the kitchen. He figured he might as well try and conjure up something for breakfast, considering the angry grumbling noises coming from his stomach and that Harry would most likely be starved when he woke up.

He wasn’t exactly the strongest in the cooking area. Louis had always looked after the girls while his mom had prepared the meal; acting as a tutor, consoler, and advice-giver amongst the many other things his sisters needed him for. The one time he had tried to cook pasta when his mum was running behind, caught in traffic driving home from work, he nearly ended up burning down the entire house. Luckily, they kept a fire extinguisher underneath the far right cabinet, and Louis was able to tame the fire before the flames spread past the stovetop. 

Louis could make toast though, and there was most likely a couple pre-packaged slices of bacon Liam had probably stocked the fridge with for himself, as he loved a good English breakfast. Louis however, was contained to his strict nutritional guide and forced Liam to make him egg white omelets with low-fat cheese and spinach in them, while Liam swallowed piece after piece of deliciously greasy bacon.

He grabbed four slices of bread, hoping Harry wouldn’t mind twelve grain, and popped them into the toaster on setting three: golden brown. He scourged through the pantry, submerging from the sea of food with a jar of organic peanut butter. Louis found the bacon in the freezer and wrapped it up in a paper towel, placing it in the microwave, and desperately trying not to remember the incidence where he had put the bacon on a plate and fat had exploded everywhere. He had gotten sick off the smell as he tried to get rid of the remains, scrubber and citrus cleaning spray in hand. 

As he programmed the bacon to microwave for the recommended three minutes, he rustled around in the drawers for a butter knife, as quietly as he possibly as he could, so he wouldn’t disturb Harry. Grabbing one, he also decided to remove the Yorkshire box from the drawer below stuffed with tea. He flicked on the freshly filled kettle. As it heated up, he popped the crisp toast onto two separate plates and spread peanut butter over the surface of the slices. He raced over to the microwave, noticing he only had three seconds left and didn’t want the loud beep to wake up Harry, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste. He split apart the bacon and placed them on the plates as well, deciding to ignore his diet plan – he wasn’t playing right now, so who honestly cared?

Upon hearing the water bubbling, he opened up a cupboard full of mugs that he had discovered last night looking for a cup to put water in, and snagged two off the lowest shelf. He hoped Harry liked Yorkshire - or even tea at all. What if he was a coffee person? Louis would be terribly embarrassed. He threw the bags in the cups and poured the water in anyways, hoping Harry would be pleased with his efforts.

Louis sighed, carding a hand through his hair before grouping the mug and plate together, and then quickly added a cup of orange juice to the mix as an afterthought.

Juggling the plate and two cups in his arms, he walked over to the couch and placed them on the glass table.

“Rise and shine, curly!” he trilled loudly.

Harry stirred, eyes fluttering, dark eyelashes kissing porcelain skin.

“S’too early,” he mumbled, pulling the duvet over his head and obstructing Louis’s view of his sleepy features.

Louis felt a grin spread across his face. He could have some fun with this.

He ripped the blanket forcefully off of Harry, and threw it across the room, where it landed unceremoniously in a crumpled heap on the floor. Louis clapped his hands together noisily, like a child.

“Time to make more furniture dear Harry! I’ve got it all planned out for today – laid all the blueprints we’ll need out on the floor and everything. Timed it all out – should take us ‘bout twelve hours or so. That is, of course, without breaks. And there’s also the-”

In a low, rough voice, edges worn with sleep, Harry muttered, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Nope! Absolutely not!” Louis said brightly, holding back a laugh, “I thought you loved working?”

Harry burrowed his head into the side of the couch.

“No.”

Louis frowned.

“That’s not the answer I want to hear.”

“Well it’s the one I’m giving you,” Harry curled up into a ball, arms wrapped firmly around his knees, trying to preserve heat. Louis thought he looked like an oversized child. An extremely endearing oversized child.

“Alrighty then,” Louis sighed, “Guess I’ll just have to eat this breakfast by myself.”

Harry rolled over, eyes opening in interest.

“Breakfast, you say?”

Louis bit back a smile.

“Only for people that actually work, not take up space on other people’s couches. I’m gonna call Niall and ask him if he wants his brekkie now,” Louis pretended to leave, and went to pick up the plate.

Harry rose from the couch, crossing his arms indignantly as Louis stealthily grasped Harry’s phone from the table behind him.

“You don’t even have his number,” Harry said accusingly.

Louis just grinned, teeth flashing.

“Too bad you do,” and pressed speed dial two on Harry’s phone.

It rang three times as Harry chased Louis around the house, their bare feet slapping against the cold polished hardwood and laughter filling the air with cheer. Being a professional footie player had its perks, as Louis expertly dodged around Harry’s failed attempts to lunge forth and grab him. He looked like a windmill, arms and legs spinning furiously as he tried to catch Louis.

On the beginning of the fourth ring, someone picked it up.

“This better be a damn good reason t’be callin’ me at this time in t’morning,” an Irish voice complained rather grumpily.

Louis laughed as Harry glared at him from across the room.

“Hi, this is Niall, right?”

“Yes, y’know that you idi-” Niall paused, “this isn’t Harry is it?”

“No, it’s Harry’s new friend, Louis Tomlinson.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath and a creak, like Niall had sat up quickly.

Louis continued, “And I just wanted to let you know that Harry doesn’t want to help me build any of my furniture today and I made this delicious breakfast for a helper, so if you wanna come over and-”

A fuming Harry ripped the phone abruptly from his ear.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Louis pouted, “I was having some fun.”

Too bad, Harry mouthed, miming a sad face.

“Sorry Niall. Yes, that was the real Louis Tomlinson speaking. No, you’re not dreaming,” Harry rolled his eyes at this. “He’s come home a few days early. We got the days mixed up somehow, but it’s alright because he’s okay with us being here.”

“Tell him about the footie game,” Louis whispered, pretending to swing his leg at an imaginary football.

Harry caught his eye, nodding, “And hey, get a kick out of this Niall, he wants you to come over and play a little scrimmage today, if you fancied the idea.”

Louis covered his face with his hand at Harry’s horrible pun. Harry grinned.

The muffled sound of jubilant yells echoed in the room as Harry removed the phone from his ear, wincing slightly at the loudness. Louis laughed good-naturedly at Niall’s excitement. He was just as excited to play, as Niall seemed, even if it was an intimate cluster of the three of them, kicking a ball around the frozen grass.

“I take that as a yes then?” Harry spoke quietly, and Louis saw him bite his lip to restrain a smile as Niall’s ecstatic voice blared down the line.

Louis’s eyes caught on Harry’s jawline as he laughed once more.

He felt the sudden urge to plant his lips on Harry and sprinkle his jaw with kisses, and mark him with angry purple bruises when he sucked on the pale skin. Harry would let out a breathy moan, and the sound would go straight down south. 

Dying puppies, dying puppies, Louis thought frantically, trying to evade the rather graphic images that had just entered his mind.

He felt a large hand placed up, and looked up, startled, to see Harry staring down at him, eyes wide. Harry gave him a look as if he was waiting for an answer from Louis.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Louis apologized, blushing at the very thought of why he was distracted.

Harry, ever patient, smiled and asked, “How about that breakfast?”

&&&

Niall arrived shortly after the two finished eating, and Harry leapt up from the couch, where they had resumed watching a soap Louis had no care for, to answer the knock at the door.

A chipper Irish voice filled the room, “G’morning to ya Harry!”

Louis craned his neck to get a glimpse of him, but Harry’s tall frame blocked his view. Louis stood up and padded towards the front door, hastily running fingers through his hair to tame his fringe slightly.

Harry stepped to the side, revealing the human equivalent of a golden retriever. Niall had bright blond hair gelled up in a quiff, cerulean eyes that were wide with excitement and a broad, easy smile. He wore a thin raincoat and had a football tucked under his right arm. His jaw dropped slightly when he saw Louis, swallowing anxiously.

“N-nice to meet ya Louis. I’m Niall – dunno if Harry already told ya m’name, but yeah. I seriously thought he was lying when he said you were here, but you’re actually here and you asked me to play footie with you and, oh, this must be a dream-”

Louis grinned, immediately charmed by Niall’s obvious nervousness. He liked him already.

“Nice t’meet you as well, Niall,” Louis said warmly, extending his hand.

Niall stood for a second, frozen in place, before seeing Louis’s hand. Nearly jumping, he shook it vigorously.

“I, um,” Niall started, pushing back his hair agitatedly, “brought a ball and stuff, y’know, in case you didn’t have everything, ‘cause you just got here yesterday and all that,” his eyes flicked frantically back and forth between Louis and Harry before continuing, “But you probably already have everything, considering you’re a professional footie player and all that.”

Louis smiled, “Thanks mate. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Do you want anything to eat? I’ve got some stuff in the pantry that I-”

Harry cut him off, laughing loudly.

“Don’t ever ask Niall if he wants ‘anything to eat’ Lou, I swear he eats enough for five people, though you can’t tell with the crazy metabolism that he’s got,” Harry said, patting Niall’s stomach and getting his hand swatted away.

Louis’s heart clenched at the nickname, his entire body flooding with warmth.

“It’s okay, m’not really hungry,” Niall said, voice quivering.

“Don’t be silly, Niall, I’ll get you something. Harry’s just rude. I swear he thinks he runs the place because he builds some furniture for it. Pretty rubbish reason to be honest, don’t y’think?”

Niall chuckled, the earlier tension slipping away.

After Niall had eaten his fair share of toast and leftover bacon, the three headed out into the backyard, clad in coats and cleats.

A light dusting of snow had fallen overnight, and soft, puffy flakes sprinkled down from the cloudy sky. Louis watched as Harry’s tongue darted out and caught one as it fell. He rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his heart tugged at the sight. Harry was actually a giant, adorable child.

Louis immediately began stretching, feeling the familiar pull in his muscles as they warmed up. His mind wandered as his body subconsciously went through the movements, eyes lazily landing on the boy a few meters away with curly hair.

He admired the way he could still see Harry’s back muscles flex through the bright orange and blue of his coat as he reached down to touch his toes, his small little bum sticking out slightly. Louis refused to let his brain think of the things he could do with an ass like that, pushing himself to feel a burn as he pulled his leg back even further.

Louis grabbed one of the many footballs that Niall had brought along with him and began a game of keep up with himself. He reached fifteen before the ball bounced off of his knee and rolled through the snow to the right. He scolded himself for being so out of practice. Flicking the ball up with his toe, he started again. This time, he controlled it until he kicked it out of mid-air, sending it hurtling in between two maple trees.

“That’ll be one of the nets over here,” he said to Harry and Niall over his shoulder, pointing to the space where the football now sat, wet from snow.

They both nodded.

Niall set up two other balls on the opposite side of the yard for the other goal and then they began. Niall and Harry were on one team, Louis on the other.

It was immediately evident that Harry was terrible at football. He stumbled ungracefully over his laces, which magically appeared to come undone twice in the first five minutes, he tried with pomp (but miserably failed) to slide tackle Louis, and he missed the ball nearly every time he attempted to take a shot, badly lacking the required foot-eye coordination. Louis watched as he sprinted around the field, long legs flying as he ran after Niall for a pass, and then slid across the field when he tripped and lost his balance. 

Louis covered his smile with his hand, laughing silently. Harry saw him, and shot him a glare, before promptly face planting in his efforts to remove himself from the snow-covered field.

He rose up, coated with snow, and Louis and Niall burst out laughing at the sight. Scowling at them, he re-tied the bandana around his head and set off after the ball once more.

Niall, on the other hand, was significantly better, dribbling and faking with an expertise that shocked Louis. He was quite skilled, and managed to get past Louis more times than he’d like to admit. The boy loved football - that much had been obvious from Harry’s description - but he was like Louis in the way that he lit up when playing and let everything else fade into the background.

The score was even at five goals per each team. 

“Next goal takes all,” Louis announced, “my bum’s gonna freeze off if we don’t go inside soon.”

Harry rolled his eyes. 

“What a shame that would be,” he said sarcastically.

Louis arched a single eyebrow, scoffing.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it Styles,” he retorted, bouncing the ball on his knee (and definitely not angling himself into a better position for Harry to gape at his behind.)

Louis looked over his shoulder. A faint blush coloured Harry’s cheeks and he remained silent. Louis smirked triumphantly. No one could resist the bum.

Niall looked up curiously.

“Well your bum’s insured isn’t it? For a hundred thousand or something rather?” Niall paused, looking a bit embarrassed, quickly adding, “at least that’s what the papers say.”

Louis doubled over in laughter, dropping the ball.

“That’s fantastic! Where did you hear that one from? I swear, the things they write about me these days.” He dwelled on the thought for a moment, “Though it could come in handy. Hundred thousand you say? I could get that Porsche everyone’s drooling over. Or maybe hire some better furnishers. My ones now seem to be lacking in the focus department. They’d rather be playing footie than actually doing any work.”

“You wouldn’t!” Harry exclaimed, slapping his arm. “It was your own idea in the first place to have a match. Besides, nobody would ever fire me. I’m too charming,” he bumped Louis’s side with his hip.

Now it was Louis’s turn to blush.

“Yeah, I don’t really know about charming, Harry dear. I think it’s the curls more so than you. They’re just so pretty,” Louis teased, tugging on a chocolate-coloured ringlet. He tried to ignore the fact that Harry smelt even better up close.

Niall made a sound of agreement. “Louis’s got a point mate. I wouldn’t done half the shit I’ve done for you if you didn’t have that hair.”

Harry pretended to be hurt, clutching at his heart. “Sticks and stones Niall. Sticks and stones.”

As they all dissolved into laughter, Louis realized just how effortless it was to fall into cheerful banter between the three of them. It felt as if he had known them for much longer. He made a mental note to introduce them to Liam and Zayn when they came on Friday. They would like the easy demeanor of the two lads.

“Right. Let’s get this show on the road. 5-5, soon to be 6-5 for Louis,” he said, placing the ball in the middle of the field. Everyone lined up respectively.

Louis won the faceoff. Dribbling off to the right, he weighed his options. Making a split-second decision, he easily pushed the ball past a lunging Harry and his wind milling arms, immediately meeting Niall. With a quick head fake to the left, he dodged around Niall’s leg to the opposite side and kicked the ball forward. He ran after it; feeling the familiar burn in his muscles, the cold air ripping past his ears, all sound closing off. It was just him and the ball. He wasn’t aware of the way the snow soaked his cleats and numbed his toes, or how both Niall and Harry had stopped to watch him. His focus was solely on scoring. 

He charged towards the ball, feet pounding the ground, vision tunneling. Drawing even, he toed it slightly into a better position before propelling his leg back and connecting the laces of his shoe powerfully with the side of the ball. It was launched through the goal and spun wildly into the thick cluster of pine trees many feet away, disappearing from sight.

Louis turned sharply, slowing slightly. He ran back to Harry and Niall, a large grin settling on his lips.

They were whooping and hollering, Niall throwing his fists in the air like a proper fan and Harry chanting, Louis! Louis! Louis! hands cupped around his mouth.

“That was amazing mate!” Niall exclaimed, high-fiving him.

“Thank-you, thank-you,” he mock bowed. “The Tommo’s done for the day. Autographs will be signed inside.”

Louis wasn’t at all surprised when Harry’s hand came up to clap him on the side of the head.

“Prick. Stop being so cocky.”

Louis attempted to glare at him, but a traitorous smile found its way onto his lips. “It’s confident; not cocky, you idiot. Stop being so curly.”

He mussed up Harry’s hair, snatching the army-green bandana from his curls and childishly ran off with it streaming like a banner overtop his head.

“Hey!” Harry yelled, “give that back!”

Louis wriggled his eyebrows challengingly.

“You better come and get it then.”

Harry took off after him, managing to keep up a decent pace considering his horrid coordination, and only slipped every once in a while. They darted around the field, like a game of cat-and-mouse. (Louis being the mouse and Harry the cat, of course). Louis teased Harry, running circles around him and taunting him with immature jabs. The sound of Niall’s cackling laughter filled the air.

Puffy, white flakes of snow fell as the sky darkened, rays of fading sunlight making the snow on the ground glisten like thousands of tiny diamonds. Louis grinned, holding Harry’s green eyes with his own as he jogged around the boy, the bandana still firmly in his grasp.

“Louis c’mon.” Harry pleaded.

Louis grinned.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Harry scowled and his nose scrunched up. Louis shouldn’t have found it as adorable as he did.

“I’d like my bandana back.”

Louis gave him a look.

“Please?” Harry corrected himself, “I’d like my bandana back please.”

Louis pretended be sympathetic, “Oh. I’m sorry – I didn’t realize. Here you are.”

Louis offered the bandana in his outstretched hand. As Harry went to grab it, his foot hit a patch of ice concealed underneath the snow. He fell forwards, limbs flailing wildly, and landed unceremoniously on top of Louis.

They hit the ground with a loud oof, Harry’s chest pressing down on Louis’s, foreheads colliding. Louis suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Harry stared at him intensely, their eyes locking. His irises were an astonishing shade of light green from this angle, and had little flecks of gold and deep green around the pupil. Mesmerizing, Louis thought.

Louis’s gaze flicked lower, settling on Harry’s lips. They were parted slightly, sort puffs of air escaping as Harry exhaled. His tongue darted out, licking over and wetting his plump pink lower lip. Louis wanted to reach up and tangle his fingers in Harry’s curls, cupping the back of his head and pulling him down to crash their lips together.

Harry’s nose bumped gently against his, sending tingles across Louis’s skin. Louis shivered slightly, all too aware of the way Harry’s hips pressed firmly against his own. He watched in slow amazement as Harry’s eyelids fluttered and shut, eyelashes dusting his pale cheekbones. His head angled slightly as it leaned closer to Louis’s. Louis closed his eyes, waiting in tense anticipation. The cold winter air suddenly seemed thick and extremely hot, tension rippling through the small space between them. Just as Harry’s lips made the slightest contact with his, lightly ghosting across his mouth, a loud clearing of a throat interrupted them.

Louis’s eyes shot open as he felt Harry’s weight lift off of him and the cold wind hit his face sharply (which also doubled as a stinging slap from reality). He laid on the ground for a moment in a daze. 

Footsteps crunched the snow and Niall’s worried face clouded his vision, blue eyes searching his own.

“You alright mate? It looked like you hit your head when Harry fell on you.”

Louis shook himself mentally before clambering to his feet. His head rushed slightly with the movement.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, a bit breathless.

Harry was standing a few feet off to the side, hands clasped behind his back. His cheeks were rosy; from embarrassment or from the wind, Louis didn’t know. He himself felt hot all over. Louis tried to catch his eye, but Harry quickly looked away.

As non-awkwardly as possible, Louis jabbed a thumb behind him and motioned towards the trees. “I’m gonna get the ball. You two head inside, yeah?”

They both nodded and began walking towards the house.

Louis realized that he still was holding the bandana in his hand.

&&&

For the rest of the day, the three boys went to work on constructing as much as the furniture in Louis’s room as possible. They settled into a light, teasing banter as if nothing had occurred. And if Harry stood a little too close to Louis when explaining instructions to Louis, whispering them into the shell of his ear, or if their hands overlapped when lifting the dresser (and the desk and the chair and the side table), nobody said anything about it.

Louis waved them both goodbye that night, cheeks flushed and smile stretching from ear to ear. He watched as the taillights of Niall’s car and Harry’s truck disappeared down the long, winding driveway before closing the curtains of the window.

He pulled out his phone and called Liam. Louis knew it was near dinnertime there, and hoped he wasn’t interrupting a dinner date with Zayn.

However, Liam answered cheerfully on the second ring, “Hey Louis! About time you called me. How’s the house?”

“Yeah, yeah, guilt-trip me, why don’t you,” Louis said, waving away Liam’s accusations, before responding seriously, “It’s great, actually. Very secluded. I really like it! Regardless of the fact that when I arrived the furnishers hadn’t finished my bedroom yet and I didn’t have a bed to sleep on, it’s fantastic!”

Liam sounded harried as he responded, “Oh Louis! Why didn’t you call me earlier? I could’ve told the company that you needed more people to finish up on time! Hold on a minute, I have the number right in front of me. I’ll just have a word with their boss-”

“No, no, don’t do that Liam, honestly, it’s fine. I was just kidding,” Louis cut him off hastily in a rush. Sometimes Liam took things a little too seriously.

“Harry and Niall are absolutely amazing, they’ve been here all day working. We’re almost done my bedroom, there are just a couple more little things that need to be brought in and then we’re done. Harry was saying to me how the orders were behind and they thought they had until tomorrow to get the job done, so…” he cut himself off before he could launch into a rant on how Harry’s eyes had looked when he had apologized, all hurt and round and beautifully green.

“Sorry,” Liam said sincerely, “I must’ve given the guy the wrong dates. I’ve been so tired lately with all the planning for next season. They give me one event with all the details and then two days later tell me it’s been moved to some other arena or another time because conflicting schedules, blah, blah, blah. It’s really irritating and I’ve been up late rearranging everything.”

Louis frowned, immediately feeling guilty. “I’m holding you up from eating aren’t I? Liam, leave whatever you’re doing now and go out to dinner somewhere with Zayn. I bet you haven’t eaten anything in a while. You can do the rest of the work on the plane tonight.”

“I guess, but there’s just this one thing that’s been rearranged to-”

“Liam, I’m serious. You have an eleven hour flight ahead of you.”

Liam sighed, “Fine, fine. You have a point. I’ll call Zayn now and ask him if he wants to go out to Ricardo’s. Thanks mate.”

“No problem. And try and get some sleep for me on the plane ride as well? I don’t want to deal with a sleep-deprived Liam when I see you tomorrow. I don’t think Zayn really wants to either.”

Liam laughed lightly, “Okay. Just for you Louis. And maybe Zayn,” he added. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow mate. Bye!”

Louis pressed the end call button on the surface of his phone. Padding with heavy feet down the hall, he stripped down to his briefs and climbed into his new bed for the first time, wrapping the thick sheets around his body. He fell asleep quickly, proceeding to dream about a beautiful boy with curly brown hair and piercing green eyes and a smile like sunlight.

&&&


End file.
